


Just Push Play

by airspaniel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Casa Erotica 13 turns out to be a pretty good porno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Push Play

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this the day after "Hammer of the Gods" aired. It's been on the back burner for a while, is what I'm saying. There's a South Park quote in here, because it just amused me so much.
> 
> Special thanks to my awesome and speedy beta, [](http://offbalance.livejournal.com/profile)[**offbalance**](http://offbalance.livejournal.com/)! I was gonna go with your title suggestion, but then I started listening to Aerosmith and... yeah. Any remaining mistakes are all mine. Comments/crit always welcome!

Yeah, Sam's watching it.

Dean's out (thank god. He'd never let him live this one down.) and nothing's trying to kill him at the moment, so why not watch a little porn?

This just happens to be the only one he has, that's all. There's no sense getting pay-per-view when he's got a perfectly good DVD right here.

He intends to fast forward through, you know… because nothing ruins a good JO session like hearing your good friend say goodbye for the last time.

Kind of fucked up that his definition of good friend is apparently someone who killed his brother more than a thousand times over and made life a living hell most of the rest of the time he was around, but Sam doesn't really have anything else. So fuck it, yeah, they were friends.

Were. Goddamnit.

Right. The porn.

Gabriel falls to the bed in a lascivious sprawl, all invitation and innuendo; and while the woman's smile is that fake seductive ooh-yeah-give-it-to-me smirk that passes for "acting" in these things, his is more like a promise. Like he's going to give it to her all right, and she's going to come so hard she forgets she's acting; forgets her damn _name_ , and that's just for starters.

Sam's hand is moving before he ever realizes it, slow, even presses through the soft cotton of his boxers. This is way hotter than he was expecting.

The woman slinks on top of Gabriel and he immediately takes charge, laughing as he rolls her to her back and kisses her neck. She gasps, as much surprise as anything, and her nails rake up his back, leaving faint red lines against pale skin all the way up to his shoulders.

Through half lidded eyes, it's easy to see wings in the pattern, and Sam grips his cock harder against the sudden stab of lust. It's so easy to imagine Gabriel with wings, dove white and brilliant; a mixture of strong and delicate that perfectly compliments the body they frame, all too pale skin and too soft hands, and so much smaller than Sam, but _oh_... Sam knows better than most how strong he is.

The woman on the DVD moans a little theatrically, and oh, right, he's supposed to be paying attention to the chick, not the image of Gabriel in his head who wasn't even doing anything. His eyes snap to the screen, where Gabriel is most certainly doing _something_ , one hand pinning his partner's leg up, knee to her chest, while the other is busy between their bodies, lining himself up to press inside and...

"Jesus..." Sam blasphemes, busy handed himself. The angle should be awkward, porn always is, bodies bent unnaturally so the camera can get the shot; but Gabriel is effortless, graceful even, back arched as he thrusts into his partner, slow and smooth.

"Oh yeah, _god_ yeah, baby," the woman pants, and it's so distracting that Sam is tempted to mute it… but then Gabriel speaks, soft and authoritative in a way Sam has never heard before.

"Be quiet. Just listen to me. Don't say anything."

She nods, and Sam is thankful for that. It's like Gabriel was reading his mind. For a moment, the three of them are mostly silent; the only sounds in the room the wet slap of flesh against flesh and heavy breaths, Sam transfixed by the motion of Gabriel's hips, the sight of his cock moving in and out. In and out. Slick and red and hard.

Unconsciously, he's set up the same rhythm for himself.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this to you?" Gabriel murmurs, and Sam groans involuntarily, rolling his head back against the sofa.

"How long I've thought about stripping you naked and strapping you down; having my wicked way with you? And you know how very wicked I can be. You've seen it. You can't even _imagine_ what I want to do to you."

Sam has abandoned all pretense that he's watching this for the woman, eyes falling shut as he loses himself in Gabriel's voice.

"But you're trying. You're thinking about it, aren't you?" the angel asks, and it doesn't sound rhetorical. "I know it. _Fuck_... it would be so good." He sounds rough and broken and breathless, though he doesn't even _need_ to breathe; and Sam has entirely forgotten how to, hand stripping his slick cock fast and desperate.

"I want..." Gabriel gasps, "I want to see you on your knees."

"Yeah, _yes_ ," Sam sighs to the empty room.

"I want to see you beg."

" _God..._ "

"Want to, _fuck_ , break you. Want to make you mine."

Sam whines behind clenched teeth, drives hard into his own fist, hot and wet and tight and he's not going to last much longer.

Gabriel's breath catches, soft and sharp, and it sound like he's _right there_. "Come for me, Sam," he says. "Let me see you."

Sam obeys like it was an order.

*

In the long hazy moments afterward, as he struggles to catch his breath, Sam realizes a couple of things. One, he really should have grabbed a towel from the bathroom first, because he's made a hell of a mess; and two...

 _Come for me, Sam. Let me see you._

No way.

He cautiously opens one eye, peeking at his laptop like he knows what he's going to see and isn't going to like it. And sure enough, the screen is closed. Instead, he's looking at a pair of denim-clad thighs, at pale hands with their thumbs hooked casually in the belt loops of jeans strained tight at the fly. His eyes track upward slowly, thinking _it's not… it can't be…_

"Miss me?" Gabriel smirks from two feet away, something breathless under the taunt, making it sound almost like an honest question.

Sam yanks a pillow from the side of the couch and clutches it protectively over his junk, feeling awkward and exposed and _holy shit…_

"Little late for modesty," laughs Gabriel, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, leaning into Sam's space. "After that show you put on."

He can't even manage to be indignant, brain still stuttering on the fact that the angel is _here_ , that he _saw_ Sam… Oh, _god_ , was _talking_ to him, about him, while he… His cock gives an interested little twitch, and Sam isn't sure his face could get any redder, but he forces his eyes up to meet Gabriel's own.

"You…" he says, disbelieving. "You died."

Gabriel just grins at him, glorious, and Sam can't believe he missed that smug fucking face. "Yeah, well, where was I gonna go, Detroit?"

Sam rolls his eyes and takes a breath to speak, but it gets caught in his chest when Gabriel slides forward off the table and straddles his lap.

"Not that I haven't missed your voice, but I didn't really come here to talk."

His waist is warm and solid under Sam's hands, and Sam doesn't even remember reaching for it, but he's not complaining. "You saying you missed me?" he asks, throwing the tease right back, hoping he sounds cocky and confident, and not just desperate and relieved.

"Shut up," Gabriel says, expression unexpectedly soft, like he heard it all anyway.

And when he tangles his hand in Sam's hair and kisses him, Sam doesn't really care how he sounds.


End file.
